From Another World
by RainEpelt
Summary: My first Fillmore Fanfic. I won't put too much in the summary for mystery reasons, but I'll tell you a little. Summary: Fillmore and Third are cracking down on a tartar sauce dealers. They're doing much, but they can't shut down the operation. But then a mystery kid who doesn't know the ropes comes to town with a secret. HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**At the Garage:**

E: If you want to know why I put at the Garage on the top look at my other stories. For now, I'll give you a basic run down. I am brodcasting this from my- I mean- the garage. Any-who, I bring people from there to here. I'll probably do it in the next chapter, the first chapter is an intro. Oh, and this is a crossover between Fillmore and one of my stories on Fictionpress. Just wanted to let you know!

* * *

"Freeze! X Middle School Safety Patrol!" called Fillmore holding up his badge. As usual, the culprit ran, dropping a package of tartar sauce as he did. "Dog, I hat when they run." He snatched the package before he and his partner began the chase. The culprit ran outside the building, past the front steps. At the same time, a taxi pulled up and the door opened. A kid came out, holding an assembled block of Legos. Seeing the malefactor, the kid raised the Legos and launched two projectiles, both hitting the same knee. The culprit slowed and began hobbling. He didn't even make it around the building before Officers Fillmore and Third caught him.

"Got you," said Officer Fillmore. He put the kid's arms behind his back.

His partner nudged him. "Fillmore, what about the other kid," Ingrid asked. They both looked at the place where they saw him but they didn't see the taxi or kid.

"Oh well, let's just get this kid back to HQ," replied Cornelius. "Still, did you get a good look at his face?" he asked.

Ingrid shook her head. "No."

Back at HQ, Vallejo congratulated the two on a job well done. "Nice work you two, at this rate we'll stop the illegal tartar sauce business for good."

Cornelius Fillmore held up his hand. "We may be good, but where not going to be able to shut down without help.

"He's right," Tehama agreed. "We may have nabbed several dealers, but we haven't caught a single large shipment or figured out who runs the place."

Anza nodded. "Every trap we lay busts. The leaders are always one step ahead of us." The patrol thought over this information.

"Maybe that new kid we saw might now something, what do you think Ingrid?" Fillmore asked.

Before Ingrid could respond, Vallejo cut in, "What new kid?" he asked. "There aren't any transfers?"

Both officers looked at him strangely. "But we saw the kid, he came in a taxi," protested Fillmore.

Tehama shrugged. "Maybe he's visiting somebody?" she speculated.

"At this time of the school year?" Cornelius questioned, "No dice, that doesn't add up."

"Hey guys! Look at this!" O'Farrell called. All the officers looked in his direction. "Look what I found on the front steps of the school!" It looked like a Lego.

"Hold up," said Fillmore. "Tehama, can you check for fingerprints?"

"Sure," she said, "but why? It's just a strange Lego piece."

Ingrid found where Cornelius was getting at. "The kid we were chasing had a bunch of Legos with him. And they shot something," she mused. "I remember hearing a splat. Then she opened her eyes wide. "The pants!" she and Fillmore said at the same time.

"Anza, get a sample of some of the goop of the culprits pants. Tehama get ready for fingerprinting and analysis," ordered Fillmore.

_Meanwhile, back at Elvis…_

"Whew," I said to myself. "That was too close." Maybe I shouldn't have interfered with a police chase. I don't think they saw my face though, besides, it's a very big school.

"Hey you," Some called from behind me. The kid was very large and had two thugs behind him. "You're on my hallway; I should beat you up for it. However, I'm generous, all you have to do is give me all your cash."

"As if," I replied. "I don't think these halls belong to anyone, so if you'll excuse me, I got to go," I tried going past the big kid, but one of his guys stopped me. So I decided to try another approach. I held up my fists and bluffed. "Okay bad boys," I said threateningly. "How would you like to fight a black belt of MMM?" The two thugs backed down but their leader stood firm. He laughed in my face.

"As if a wimp like you could know karate," he laughed. His thugs came on back. "Now hand it over!" As if in defeat, I put my hand in my pocket, shuffling it around as if looking for spare change. The metal clinked in my pocket as I took out two quarters. "The bully looked at me threateningly. He held out his palm and I dropped the coins in, and then rummaged in my pocket again. When he pocketed the coins and held out his hands again, I pulled out a paint gun and pointed it at his neck. "I think you should watch you who you bully," I said menacingly, "Hands up!" They all did as I said. I looked around and spotted a girl walking around with her nose in a book. "Hey!" I called out. She looked at me annoyed, then noticed the paint gun and the three bullies with their hands up. "Which way to patrol office?" I asked. She pointed down a hall before turning tail and running. "I guess they don't use paint guns around here," I said to myself.

I led the three to the room. I motioned for the leader to open the door. When he did so, I motioned for them to go inside before I pocketed my gun and disassembled it quickly. When I got inside I saw something, or someone, or some people I really didn't want to meet. It was the two kids I saw chasing a criminal. I considered running, but decided for the time being to play it by the ear.

"Hey you," called the male officer that I saw before. "Who are you?" he asked.

Another girl, Asian, walked up to him. "Fillmore, I got analysis on the goop or paint that was shot. It's made of-"

I smacked my forehead. "Could you please not reveal the recipe to the world? It's a secret recipe. With emphasis on the secret," I carefully explained.

"So you shot it. Do you know that paint guns are not allowed on campus?" she asked.

I held up my hands. "I just transferred here. I don't know the ropes. Sorry about that." Then I noticed what a freckled red-head boy hand in his hand. "Hey, that one of my Legos!" I exclaimed. I attempted to take it but the boy they called Fillmore took before I could. "Were running a fingerprint test on it," he said.

"But that's mine, it's part of a set," I protested.

"If it's yours then a fingerprint test will prove it," he replied. I didn't want to stick around for someone to run a test and separate my, Fred's, and the red-haired boy's fingerprints. Instead I snatched. To the Asian girl I said, "Don't show of the recipe. It's a secret." Without I walked out and slammed the door. Once I was a safe distance away I bolted to my next class. My secret agent mission wasn't being as secretive as I thought. I needed to contact Fred as soon as school was over. In addition, I need to avoid those… officers? I think that's what they were called. I didn't want my cover blown.

* * *

**At the Garage:**

E: Okay, be frank with me. What do you think? Where the charcters OOC? Review! Ask questions, give comments. I'll answer them on the chapter you review to. Review!

Miki-blue: This is a great story. Feels like a real middle school. But I suggest that you should paint the characters more.

E: Thank you thank you *bows*. But I can't paint the charcters, what do you mean?

***end of transmission***


	2. Chapter 2

**At the Garage:**

E: Okay, I brought Elvis over here. Next I'll bring Cornelius and Ingrid.

Elvis: Cool place.

E: I zapped his brain so he wouldn't go crazy.

Elvis: Are we really in a garage?

E: Quiet! Anyway, this chapter is a little different from the others.

Elvis: Remeber the disclaimer.

E: Oh yes, I do not own Fillmore! but I do own elvis and every other OC.

* * *

"Tehama, what's the goop made of," Fillmore asked.

Tehama looked at her report. "There are four different kinds of paste and three different kinds of paints, as well as numerous other ingredients," Tehama read. "However, one of the paints and one of the pastes are very rare. They cannot be gotten just anywhere. I believe this was the reason the kid said to keep it a secret."

"Who was that kid anyway?" O'Farrell asked, "He was such a jerk."

"Yeah," Fillmore added, "A secretive jerk."

_Meanwhile, back at Elvis the next afternoon…_

I successfully managed to avoid to people and their questions. Yesterday, when I called Fred, Fred told me to avoid those I met. "The school's big, you won't stand out so much," he had told me over the phone.

"Yeah right," I had replied, "I've been getting 'he's a stranger looks' as well as fear looks from the ones who saw me take down the bullies."  
"Be careful, and if you want to make a name for yourself, do it how they do it there, not here. You got to play by their rules to blend in."

"Easier said than done, but I'll try," I had replied.

Now, I have to be on the lookout. I don't want to be exposed…

_Back at Safety Patrol HQ…_

"Guys, we just got an anonymous call that another tartar sauce deal is going to happen at the apple orchard shed," Anza informed the group.

All heads turned up. Vallejo immediately began giving out orders. "Fillmore, Third, get on site," they were out the door before he even finished. "Tehama, Anza, get ready for-" they already were out the door, "back up," he finished.

Cornelius and Ingrid were watching the shed. "Looks like a dud," Ingrid told Fillmore.

Her partner nodded. "Probably," he agreed. "No wait, there's someone coming. It looks like the kid we saw yesterday morning."

His partner agreed. "Yeah, and another kid's coming too, with a box."

_From Elvis's POV…_

I walked to the shed to organize my thoughts. It looked as though I wasn't the only one. Someone else came into the shed after me. Then he asked me something really strange. "I got the sauce, you got the books?"

"Uh, what books?" I asked.

He looked at me exasperated. "The dough," he explained.

I began to suspect something. I had feeling something was going on here. I also saw two people in the bushes. "I don't have those, but I got something else," I said. Then I knocked him to the ground before running off. Just as I thought, the two officers came running. The African American male came after me, while the Goth girl went after the other kid.

I didn't know my way around, so I decided the safest place to be was off campus. The problem was the campus was big and confusing. I didn't know how to get off. I just kept on running. I ran through the apple orchards and past a lake. '_Geez_,' I thought, '_how big is this place_?' I turned off the open field and went into the school again, Fillmore still on my trail. I had to shake him. Then two girls carried a giant vase out of a room.

"This is going to be our best art project ever," squealed one of them.

"That's right," said the other, "we'll- wait, who's that?" she asked, pointing at me. Thinking fast, I made a nice slid underneath the statue. Fillmore slid underneath too. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I raced to the cafeteria. Once inside, I went beside the doors. When Fillmore came in, I ducked out.

_From Fillmore's POV…_

That kid was slick. He dived and slid like a pro. I raced into the cafeteria after him, but he just vanished. "Tehama, Anza, do you read me?" I asked into my radio. "We hear you Fillmore, where are you?" Anza answered and asked. "I'm in the cafeteria. The kid's hiding in here. Tell Ingrid to," at this point Fillmore lowered his voice. "Drop the guy off and get O'Farrell, cover all four entrances to the cafeteria. No one goes in, or out." "Got it Fillmore, over and out."

I waited a few minutes before searching the place. I searched under the tables, in the kitchen, everywhere. Then I spied an open window. "Guys, we got a small problem," I said. "What is it Fillmore?" Ingrid asked. "Are you in trouble?" "If I am right, then we're all in trouble. Get in here."

They all came inside. "What is it Fillmore? Please, Please, Please, tell me it's not bad news," Danny O'Farrell pleaded.

I shook my head. "Sorry but it is." I pointed at an open window. "He escaped."

"So? What's so bad about that?" Anza asked.

"Fillmore, people escape through windows all the time," Ingrid told me.

"That's not the point," I said. "That window is about eight feet off the ground. In order for him to reach it he would need a ladder."

"I'm with the other two on this," said Tehama. "What's so-"

"He would need to get a ladder, climb up, and then take it with him to climb down, right?" When I got four nods I continued, "But I got inside less than two seconds after he did. And besides, we don't keep ladders here."

"Crackers," said Ingrid. "That means he got out another way."

"Or hey flew through the window with his psychic powers," Danny proposed. We all looked at him.

"Fillmore, Third, Principle Folsom wants to see you two. Now," Vallejo said through the radio.

* * *

**At the Garage:**

E: I'm kind of shifting back into my old crossover mood from my first crossover.

Elvis: Did you realize we both have the letter E in our names? Then again, your name is E.

E: Anyway... starting the next chapter I will be using my old crossover format.

Elvis: Who cares what you do?

E: Quiet before I roast your brain!

Elvis: Review so he doesn't hurt me!

***end of transmission***


	3. Chapter 3

**At the Garage:**

Fillmore: Dawg, this place is awesome!

Ingrid: Did you build all these things?

E: Hey hey hey! We're live okay! Don't tell people what I got here.

Ingrid: Are you a kid genius?

E: No, now let the viewers read! Oh, and chack out my profile poll u/3776380/RainEpelt#

* * *

_~Fillmore and Ingrid's POV~_

"Do you know what I have on my hands?" Principle Folsom asked rhetorically.

"No, but I think you're going to tell us," Ingrid replied.

"That was a rhetorical question!" Folsom shouted. "Don't you know what that is?"

"A statement that is formulated as a question but that is not supposed to be answered," Ingrid quoted from her mental dictionary.

"Good," Folsom said smiling. Then she turned stern. "That kid is a menance," she said angrily, "we do not tolerate that in this school. There's a maniac running lose in the halls, and you don't even have his name!"

"He just transferred," explained Fillmore, "he may or may not be on the—hold up. Ingrid, is there a way to sort the transcripts by date of entrée instead of alphabetically?"

"Yes there is but—crackers!" Ingrid Third realized what he was getting at.

Fillmore turned to Folsom. "You'll have a name in a matter a minutes if you'll excuse us," he said.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

Class was a breeze; I was keeping a steady A. That was good, an A student in this school was thought to be a good guy. Though I was doing good staying in the good light, I needed connections. It looked as though I had to find out who knew the word on the street. Man, its hard to be a trail blazin' undercover agent. I needed my team.

_~Fillmore and Third's POV~_

"Elvis Jackson, straight A student. Participated in several after school activities including clay pigeon shooting, defensive biking, and school completions," Ingrid read.

"So he's handy with the rounds, rides a mean wheeler, and competes," Fillmore summarized. "What type of completion does he do?" he asked.

Ingrid looked then raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "They don't specify, but this says it takes up about one to two hours a day whenever he does it. And," she added, "What's even stranger, I found the dates and times of his activities. The dates and times are all over the place. He stay for two hours regularly for three days, then suddenly, he didn't partici[ater for four days. Played one hour the next day, then didn't for the next. It's crazy!"

"So we can safely conclude that he's in on the tartar sauce business?" Fillmore asked with an eyebrow raised.

Ingrid shook her head. "We got no proof, just supposition and suspicion," she replied.

"Let me see if I can dig up some evidence from his own mouth," said Fillmore. "What's his first class?"

_~Elvis POV (First Person)~_

I nearly had a heart attack when Officer Fillmore tapped my shoulder before the first bell rang. I usually came to class early instead of wasting my time socializing. Now I considered running, but since class was coming up, and I wouldn't get a head start, I decided not to. "I need to speak with you," he said to me seriously.

I shrugged. "Speak away," I told him, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice.

He pulled out a report. "I got a list of felonies on you, for a new kid you sure know how to break the rules," he half-joked.

I gave him a side glance. "Lay these felonies on me," I replied with an air. Considering he raised an eyebrow, my plan must be working.

"Carrying illegal weapons on school grounds," he read. He looked at me and I held up my hand.

"Hold on there, I know the law. I was given a warning and I never took the paint gun with me on school campus again," I replied. "Try again."

He didn't even look at the report. "Running away from an officer, being in the same place we were anonymously tipped some dealers were," he said, confident that I was busted.

However, I still countered. "One, you didn't identify yourself. If you say I was running from the police I have more right to say that I was being chased. Two, it was anonymous tip. That's not real evidence. That carries as much water as me saying you and your partner were at the place." I waved my hand as a way of saying back off. "Got anything else?" I asked him.

The bell rang and he narrowed his eyes. "Just remember, I'll be watching you," he said before I ducked into class.

_~Fillmore's POV (First Person)~_

"How did it go?" Ingrid asked me the second I walked into the room. I shook my head and sat at my desk.

"Terrible," I replied. "That kid knows the law like the back of his hand. If I didn't know better, I would say he argued himself on a clean record."

"How bad was it?" she persisted. "You must have got him somewhere."

"He seemed a little shaky at first, but then he just threw down all three accusations on him," I replied angrily. "Arguing the law to that kid is like arguing with the book!"

"Let tail him," Ingrid suggested. "We might be able to find something."

"Did I hear someone say tail?" Vallejo asked from across the room. "Who's tailing whom?"

Ingrid pulled out a file and showed it to Vallejo. "We will be tailing Elvis Jackson, eighth grader. We believe that he has involvement in the tartar sauce dealers business."

Vallejo read the profile. "This kid is as clean as a whistle, how could you consider him a suspect."

I counted off my fingers. "First day he had a paint gun at school."

"He also had one when he came here the day before he started taking classes here," Ingrid added.

"Right. And he was at the place where we heard from an anonymous tip that tartar sauce dealers would be there. That tip was correct and we bagged over a pound in sauce," I continued.

"Not to mention he ran from the police and somehow jumped through an eight foot high window," my partner added again.

Vallejo sighed in defeat. Then he perked up. "If you got so much evidence why didn't you take him in?" he asked suspiciously.

"He used the law that accused him to defend himself. That kid's slicker than mustard," I sighed.

"So you got suspicions to tail him, but you don't have a scrap of solid evidence," Vallejo summarized. "Go ahead, but don't be seen," he warned.

"Got it," I said.

_~Ingrid's POV (First Person)~_

"We'd been tailing Elvis for two days now," I stated, "We've got nothing."

"My gut says that he's involved," Fillmore replied.

"But what if-" I was cut off by Tehama whispering through the radio. "Fillmore, Third, get to the apple shed. We got a non-anonymous tip that the dealers would be there."

"We're on it," Fillmore replied.

We got to the shed in record time. We lay low in the bushes and found the transaction was already in progress. We saw one had the comics, and the other had the sauce.

"Time to bust them up baby," said Fillmore. He stood and held up his badge. "Freeze! X Middle School Safety Patrol!"

Both of them ran. One was tackled by Anza, while Tehama chased the other. That one dived into the bushes but then tripped over Danny. "Got him," he said with a grin.

Fillmore and I got the sauce and comics. "Tehama, I'll go with Danny and Anza and put these two away. Could you two get started on the fingerprinting and paperwork?" he asked winking to me.

"Sure," Tehama replied.

* * *

**At the Garage:**

E: Did you see the new format?

Fillmore: What are you talking about?

E: Ugh, here's the drill. This is live. Sometimes I talk to you, sometimes I talk to the viewers, understand?

Ingrid: You sound kind of like Vallejo.

E: *sigh* just review.

Fillmore: What?

E: Fillmore!

Ingrid: Definetly sounding like Vallejo.

***end of transmission***


	4. Chapter 4

**At the Garage:**

E: Joining us today are officers Cornelius Fillmore and Ingrid Third. Now tell me, what do you think of this case?

Fillmoe: Dude, what's with the mike?

E: Just answer the question.

Ingrid: This case is definently if not the hardest, the starngest case yet.

E: Even worse than the shredder?

Fillmore: Definently.

* * *

_~Ingrid's POV (First Person)~_

"Got something for you," I said to my partner as he walked into the room.

"Present, or info?" he asked with a smile.

"Info," I replied smiling, "I got a number we can call so we can get info on Elvis Jackson. And I checked the office hours, were in session. The calling time is from four till six."

Fillmore looked at the clock which said 2:36. He then looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Time zone difference," I explained while dialing the number. He put his ear close to the receiver so he could listen.

"Yes, who is this?" someone asked from the other side of the line.

"This is Officer Ingrid Third," I identified myself; "We would like some info on someone who transferred here from your school. His name in Elvis Jackson."

"I'll answer your question, but first I have to test if you're from Y Middle School," the person replied.

"It's X Middle School," I corrected. "What's the test?"

"You passed it already," he replied. "Oh, and another thing, we don't use full names around here."

"Okay…" this kid was really weird. "What can you tell me about…Elvis?"

"Hmm… well, he's very helpful, but not perfect. That officer sometimes is a pain but-hold on a sec." He covered the mouthpiece and talked to someone. I could only make out the words "see" and "April". Then he went back to talking to us. "Listen, I've got to go to an appointment. My office times are listed on the school website bye." With that he hung up.

I looked at my partner and he looked back. "I had hoped to get a little more from him beside a sentence and a half," he commented with one eyebrow raised.

_~Fillmore's POV (First Person)~_

"Did you get much?" Tehama asked from her desk.

We shook our heads. "We got that security is tight were he comes from, but not much on this Jackson kid," I said.

"We got that he's helpful," my partner added. "Hold on, he referred to him as "that officer". That means Elvis is…" "An officer," we said at the same time.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

"Hey you!" someone called out. The voice didn't sound familiar. I turned around and saw a boy in baggy clothes. From what I knew about this place, he was a thug. However, he might have info.

"Yeah?" I responded, turning fully around.

"You did well on that officer this morning," he complimented.

I brushed it off. "It was nothing," I said with a shrug.

He looked at me like I was joking. "Nothing?" he repeated. "You just told off an officer who said you had three felonies and you call that nothing?" He handed me a card. "That's how to reach me; my group could use someone like you."

As he left I smiled. I was in.

_~Fillmore and Third's (POV)~_

"There's nothing here in the safety patrol database about any officer under the name Elvis Jackson," Ingrid told her partner.

"Did you check for pictures?" he asked, "Maybe Elvis Jackson isn't his real name."

"Been there, done that," Ingrid sighed. "Maybe we're barking up the wrong tree."

"He's an officer who's not in the data base," mused Fillmore. "We better investigate."

"How Fillmore?" Ingrid questioned. "We can't just cut school."

"We need to find another way." Fillmore was determined to get to the bottom of this.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

I decided I might as well check out the kids place. I called Fred of course before hand, but it turned out he had news for me.

"An officer called me about you," he informed me. "It was a girl named Ingrid Third, and she knew your full name. She also identified herself as an officer."

I smacked my forehead. "They're getting to me. I better hurry up and ship out."

"Got any connections yet?" he asked.

"I got someone on the thug side, not my usual group but I think it'll be more effective in this case," I replied.

"Good now go!" Fred urged. "Oh, and you'll have a guest over on Monday. Bye." He hung up before I could ask who."

I looked at the card to find the room number. It took me awhile, but I found it. The card also said knock four times, so I did. The door opened and I found myself entering some kind of casino.

"Glad you could make it," the kid I saw earlier said. "By the way, name's Jack. Attack Jack, know what I mean?"

"Got it down," I responded. He slapped my back twice. "Yo everyone! Listen up! This guys with me, go it?" Everyone nodded. "Good." Then he looked back at me. "I don't remember catching your name."

"Elvis," I replied, "Elvis Jackson."

He slapped my back again. "Good to have you with us Elvis." He made a sweep with his hands, indicating the game table. "Might I interest you in Poker," he invited me.

"Nah, I'd prefer a game of hearts," I replied.

_~Fillmore and Ingrid's POV~_

"Guys, we got another tartar sauce dealer meeting tip," Vallejo announced.

"Dawg, that's the sixth one this week," Fillmore complained.

"This is strange," Ingrid commented. "We get a bunch of tips, most of them unanimous, and we bag at least two or three dealers a day."

"Ingrid's right," agreed Fillmore. "It doesn't add up."

"Well the tips have never been wrong so far," countered Vallejo. "Now get to it."

After a successful nabbing of the villain, which only destroyed $300 worth of school property, they went back to HQ.

"Fillmore, I was thinking," Ingrid started to say.

"About what?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Thanks to these tips we've been nabbing about ten crooks a week for almost three weeks correct?" she asked.

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked.

"That means we've bagged about thirty in total, twenty-seven to be precise," she recalled.

"I'm still not getting it," Fillmore responded.

"If we caught so many, and only two have been released from detention, why is the business still running?"

"Dawg, you're right," exclaimed Fillmore.

"In addition, we have only caught petty thefts, no really big loads have been caught," Ingrid added.

Danny O'Farrell, who had been listening to them, gave a suggestion. "Maybe the tips are just ways of getting rid of low downs in the society, and the big guns are safe because they are all sweared to secrecy."

The other two looked at each other. "I hate to say it, but it makes sense," Ingrid said slowly.

"I say we do some integrating," said Fillmore.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

"I'm in." was the first thing I said when I called Fred.

"You're in where?" he asked puzzled.

"I'm in some illegal club, and I'm getting connections," I told him excitedly.

"You know, the legal side is just as good," Fred persuaded.

"I know, but I'm already in. Besides, all I have to do is not get caught doing illegal activities," I responded. "See ya!"

"Wai-" Fred didn't even finish the word.

* * *

**At the Garage:**

E: I am so tired of this!

Ingrid: Tired of what?

E: I don't have many reviews!

Fillmore: Live with it.

E: No, Insted I will make an announcement. I will not even start tying till I have (in total) five review from three different people. Miki-blue and her review lowers it to four reviews from at least two other people.

***end of transmission***


	5. Chapter 5

**No your are not dreaming, yes I finally updated. School has been keeping me busy, so sorry the chapter is short. Switched Roles is so popular that I spent alll my little free time writing it. Anyway, I'm going to start using passwords. Put the password on your review so I know that you read the authors notes.**

**The password is: Pudding**

* * *

_~Ingrid's POV (First Person)~_

"Any luck?" I asked Fillmore as he finished interrogating the last suspect.

He shook his head. "They didn't say anything. Not about the business, or this Elvis kid," he said, plopping down at his desk. "Where's a lead?"

I sighed. We were getting nowhere. There were no leads, only one shady suspect, and…

I went over to Tehama's desk. "Tehama, I need the analysis for that goop."

She sifted through her files. "Here's the data," she said, pulling out the file. "Why do you need it?" she asked.

I gave a small smile. "I'm laying down some flypaper," I replied.

_~Fillmore's POV~_

Fillmore watched as his partner read through the analysis of that strange, hardening paint. "Trying to make your own batch?" he joked.

She gave him a sly smile. "Actually I'm trapping a rare species of fly," she replied nonchalantly.

He raised an eyebrow. "What's the species?" he asked.

She smiled. "Elvisis Jacksonas."

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

"Yo Elvis! What's happenin' man?" several people greeted me as I entered the room. I seemed to have become a celebrity for telling that cop off. This was both good news and bad news. Good news: I would able to grab a bunch of info, which was the reason I was here anyway. Bad news: I was on the wrong side of the law; I would have to be extra careful.

A familiar hand grabbed my shoulder. "Hey man!" the guy who introduced me to this crowd, who I now knew as Barney, greeted me.

"What's shakin' Barney?" I greeted in response.

"I got you a chance to be in one of the top groups in the school," he said.

"Sweet man!" I exclaimed. "But hey, I'm still new, who's the top dogs 'round 'ere?"

He grinned. "Only members and specially people know its name. That group gets an A in secrecy."

I considered this a moment. This would rather get me in a trouble with the law beyond what I could wiggle out of, and/or it could give me some information. I decided to take the deep end.

"So do they 'ave dey have an appointment or initiation I have to do or wha'?" I asked Barney.

He gave me a wide grin. "Their leaders' jus' wanna meet with ya, you know, like an interview. They'll look you over ask some questions, but nuttin' you can't handle, right?"

"I can wrestle down any challenge that dares sho' its ugly face," I said. We did a high-five as he went deeper into the room and I went outside to make a private phone call.

_~Ingrid's POV (First Person)~_

"You sure about this?" Fillmore asked me as I finished dropping off a scoop to an eager reporter.

I sighed and turned to face him. "It should work, besides, I made sure that every part of the plan will work. There are no legal complications or loopholes. He'll have to take the bait walk right into the trap."

"Yeah, but what if he goes for the trap, and escapes it?" Fillmore replied. "Or what if he ignores it like it's none of his business, then we would be stuck in a mess.

I was really getting annoyed with him. "Got any better ideas?" I asked him sarcastically. He didn't reply. "Now when he stops by the office-"

"I know, I know," he said. "Everyone knows what they have to do, and this time let's hope that he doesn't fain a way out of this."

* * *

**Short, but this was all I could do. It might seem broken, but I tried my best.**

**Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Back on track with a normal chap!**

**This may be confusing, sorry for any convience and stuff.**

* * *

_~Elvis's POV~_

The next day there was an interesting front page on the school newspaper. Elvis casually took one of the papers, looking as cool as a cucumber. Suddenly his eyes widened when he saw the headline. He briefly skimmed the article before taking off down the hall.

_~Ingrid's POV~_

We watched as Elvis ran down. "He fell for it," said Fillmore, talking both into his walky-talky and to his partner.

"I'll follow him, you get ready for the reporters," said Ingrid. Fillmore nodded, then held up his hand.

"Hold up," he said, "I-" but his partner was already gone. "Dawg." He walked back to HQ, preparing himself for the soon-to-come reporters.

Meanwhile, Ingrid was following Elvis. He was rather not taking the news well, or he knew that she was following him. Considering he never looked back, she assumed it to be the former.

He was zigzagging the halls like a mad man, a few people called out him, but he ignored them. Ingrid was starting to catch up to him until he plowed his way through a group of students. It wasn't hard to tell where he was, but it was a different story trying to get him. By the time Ingrid managed to get through the crowd Elvis Jackson had fled the scene. She took out her walky-talky to report the bad news.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

One of those cops was following me. Call it an instinct if you will. As I raced through the halls dodging people I could feel a pair of eyes trained on me. There was a jar of what I thought was jam being carried down the hall. Even though it would slow me down I squeezed between it and the wall, knowing my pursuer would follow me by it. As they passed I saw their reflection out of the corner of my eye.

Ingrid, that was her name. She was Fillmore's partner. I knew if she was here he wouldn't be far behind. Using some evasive techniques I picked up on, I zigzagged through the crowds so she would fall behind. Then I plowed through a crowd, knowing that it would be hard for Ingrid to follow. I burst out of the crowd and immediately headed to the nearest boys bathroom. I made sure that the door did not slam or swing wildly behind me by easing it shut. I was safe, for now. Now I took a good look at the front page of the school newspaper.

_~Fillmore's POV (First Person)~_

Just as I was getting those nosy reporters out Ingrid came through the door. She had already relayed Elvis's escape, but now the press wanted an interview. I finally managed to shove them outside HQ and shut the door.

"That kid is slick even without trying," Ingrid remarked. I knew that she was talking about Elvis.

"Rather that or he can detect a cop within a twenty mile radius," I half-joked. Then I turned serious. "We can't seem to touch him. He knows the rules like a senior cop."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. "Maybe you're right," she remarked. She went to her desk and started typing. I went over to her, I stopped short when I saw the program she was using.

"Hold up," I said. "Isn't that-"

"Yes, this is E's informational site. Right now I'm trying to gain access to Elvis's school, considering that there is anything on it." E was a little, friend of ours. He was eccentric, tended to act like a rambling geek, and didn't always, well, play by the rules. Not to mention he insisted on being called his middle initial. He was an inventor and scientist of sorts, and even though now he was a freshman in high school, we still had connections. He made a restricted access site containing information that was obtained through legal and not so legal methods. If we were using his site, that meant we were _really_ desperate.

"Got it!" exclaimed Ingrid. "E's online and he gave me a one hour access to the information on Elvis's school. Under normal restrictions of course, no copying the information, no adding data, the works."

"Let's just hope he doesn't put a virus in our system for its files while we're at it," I grimaced. E has a tendency to do those kinds of things, which is why this was one of our last resort sources.

"Fillmore, you better see this," said Ingrid. I knew that tone, something was up. I looked at the screen. "Woah…" was all I could say.

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

I practically barged into Barney's place. Everyone jumped, expecting me to be a cop. I not-so-calmly walked over to Barney and pulled aside, letting everyone else get back to what they were doing.

"Barney, I'm in a fix," I said in a hushed voice.

He looked at me in surprise. "But you're the untouchable one, man," he whispered.

I shoved the paper in his face. "Read this," I said.

The place was dim, so as not to attract attention from someone from outside. He went close to one of the lights and carefully read the paper. His eyes widened as he read the article. I saw him go over it a second time, then a third before he passed it back to me. However the question he asked was not the one I was expecting. "You have a plastic gun that can shoot pelts that immobilizes people's joints, awesome!"

I did a facepalm. "Yeah, but now they have the recipe and will expose it in next week issue. It's supposed to be a secret formula. If it's exposed then it won't be a secret. People will make and antidote or something, not to mention they'll be able to pin it on me!"

"Pin what?" he asked. I did another facepalm.

"That stuff is illegal; I haven't used it at this school since day one. If the recipe comes out I'm attached to it, then I'll be involved and I'll have reporters chasing me and who knows what!" I stopped talking when I noticed several people staring at me.

"So wha'chya need me for," Barney asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I need you to help me steal it," I whispered. He opened his eyes wide.

"Didn't ya read the article? That recipe is in the Safety Patrol HQ and is guarded, like, all the time. You gone mad!"

"No, I gone desperate. That recipe should never be exposed to the school." I looked at him square. "You gonna help?"

He gave me a weak smile. "Only for you man," he replied weakly.

I nodded. "Good, now I want to get that thing in four days, on Friday. It would be harder to do it on the weekend. Now, who do you know can hack into a computer?"

* * *

**Yah I wanted to put myself in it. And as my bro says, "[I] described [myself] perfectly." **


	7. Chapter 7

**Spring the trap! Mouse trap! We got him cornered! How will Elvis evade this?**

* * *

_~Ingrid's POV (First Person)~_

"You sure this is going to work?" Vallejo asked skeptically. He leaned far back in his chair.

"Do you have an alternative," I replied. Without waiting for an answer I continued, "He's going to try to get the formula from HQ. We've also asked E to-"

"No, there is no, no way that we're letting HIM in on this!" Vallejo shrieked, standing up immediatly.

"No one has to know," Fillmore replied calmly. "We just asked him to upragde our defenses."

"This guy is a master," Vallejo said. He started pacing back and forth.

"He's a master of getting out of trouble with the law," my partner countered.

"Breaking and entering is not his style," I supported.

"But he knows the law better than some of our officers," continued Vallejo, pacing as he walked.

"That's because he's one himself," I said, slapping down a note pad on his desk. "E wouldn't let me print anything off his site but-"

"You're getting information off his site too!" he exclaimed frantically. Then what I said sank in. "Wait… he's…"

"Just read," I said coldly.

He read the notes I had taken down from the site. He read them over again as hie eyes widened and eyebrows raised. "You mean he's…" He pointed to the two words that I had circled _and_ underlined.

"He's an 'undercover cop'," Fillmore supplied.

"But… but…" Vallejo stammered.

"According to the site he's an undercover cop. He came here to seek classified information, which we assume will come from the school database," I summarized.

"But he's also-"

"According to the report he's begun to fall out and he is suspected off turning to the "dark side". We could go into details because that was also classified information," I continued.

"So getting him to come will…"

"Allow us to stop him or help him, depending on what side he's on," Fillmore supplied.

"Yes, but what about the last part? About-"

"The fact that he will be visited by an unknown quest does not concern us greatly," I said. "But that is excluding the fact that he will be visited by a fellow cop of the same team. Also, I noted "cop" in short for the term "officer". So as far as we can assume-"

"He's going to be visited by a fellow officer," Fillmore concluded. "If we can get both of them-"

"Alright, alright!" Valljo threw up his hands in the air. "It's out of my hands anyway. Just be sure that if this blows, Folsom knows that it was your idea.

"Thanks Vallejo," said my partner. "I knew you'd see it our way."

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

"So these are the people?" I asked Barney. We were casually leaning on a wall in a crowded and noisy hallway, acting as though we were discussing something as trivial as the school lunch.

Backtrack, I was casually leaning, Barney was nervously leaning. "Y-yes," he stammered. His eyes shifted back and forth as though looking for an unseen enemy "But you didn't get them from me. You-"

"Heard about their talents from the general word on the street," I finished for him. "I know, chill man. All you got to do is keep your mouth shut until I'm out of here, which will only take a week or so. Then you can make anything from how I tortured you with forced-fed hot sauce or something."

"But does it have to take a week?" he whined.

"I was slacking off earlier," I replied.

"But besides the recipe what else do you need that's going to take a _week_ to 'natch? He asked.

Suddenly I scanned the perimeter. "Split and run slowly," I hissed as I moved. As we separated I mentally wiped my forehead. I trusted him alright, but some things I have to keep to myself.

First off was the computer lab. Alexis (aka Gladys) was typing away, as usually. Strolling ever so casually so as not to attract her attention, I lightly tapped her shoulder, causing her to quickly swivel around.

"Who are-" she began before recognizing my face. "You! Whatever your gig is I'm not participating! I've been-"

"SHHH!" I hissed. Apparently this was going to be trickier than I thought. "I just need a small favor-"

"Hacking into the Safety patrol headquarters so you can steal the formula, as if!" she stated firmly.

"I'm not stealing it, I already have the original copy," I informed her. I took a carefully rolled paper from my sock. She might have guessed where I wanted to go, but I still had power over the why. "This is the real formula, what they have is a close-but-not-quite dud."

She still looked dubious. "And you want me to hack into there, why?" she asked suspiciously.

"I want them to still think they have the real one," I lied. After my experience of deciphering lies, it was easy to make one up. Just let out the truth, and in a little lie and presto! "Besides, they have a dud too close to the original. The formula is a secret, and now they have a dud that's too good. If I can nab it, I kill two birds with one stone."

It was obvious she wasn't budging. "I don't trust you," she stated, turning her chair around and resuming her work on the computer. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

But I still had one card left to play. "I know," I said mysteriously.

She stopped typing. "How did you—I mean-"

"I know, and you know that I know," I continued, pressing her. "Maybe I should tell…"

"N-n-no, I'll-" She narrowed her eyes. "Fine!"

"Good, now I need the security cameras deactivated tomorrow at five o'clock Monday afternoon," I said with a smile. She fell for it hook, line, and sinker. "And now if you'll excuse me-"

_~Fillmore's POV~_

"You're sure of this?" Fillmore asked Augie.

He nodded vigorously. "I think he was getting her to do something. And since you have his formula…"

"So that's his plan," Fillmore mused. "Since he can't do this, he's enlisting everyone who he know can. But he's new, how could he know about Alexis aka Gladys?"

"He might have connections in the underground, but I don't know where or how to look," said Augie. "Know that everyone knows that I'm with the cops-"

"Not everyone…" said Fillmore. A thought was forming, and a plan was blossoming in his mind.

* * *

**So what was the "thing" anyway? Elvis seems to be turning a little dark, maybe one of his old partners should visit him aye? Or maybe more than one...**

_**Also an Important announcement:**_

_**Today March 9, 2013, I celebrate my year and one week on this site. For this celebration, I will update one chapter of every fanfic I am writing, as well as give several plans for my future fanfics.**_

_**And now, I will leave my stiff, formal righting aside. Kick it to the side!**_

_**I am going to co-author a Pokemon fanfic with my cousin. Her username is Angel-flys. I would post a link but this site would take it off, so just search her name or look on my profile.**_

_**Here's a book that I should've put up last month (Black history month). I think you guys might like it. Search: Martin's Dream Journey Onto the Promised Land by Ronald Stimphil. I have to excerpts on my profile. (Note to trolls and flamers, I have permission from the author!)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Oooh-ah-oooh! Let's see how this chapter turns out! **

* * *

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

"So how did it go?" Barney asked me down at his gambling gig.

"They all took it, but Alexis was the most difficult, I had to pull out the secret weapon in order to reel her in," I replied.

"But if it didn't work…"

"Relax, it worked and that's what matters," I said breezily. "Now, you just act like nothing ever happened. I'll also have to stop dropping by your place to prevent you from being trailed."

"Thanks man, you're the best criminal the school has ever seen," Barney complimented.

"Thanks," I replied. But as I thought about what he said, I wondered what I was. A criminal; or an undercover cop?

_~Fillmore and Ingrid's POV~_

The school was being locked up for tonight. Fillmore, Ingrid, and Vallejo were the last to leave HQ. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Vallejo asked dubiously. "If this doesn't work, the entire school will be in hot water, and Principle Folsom might really turn this place into a new spa room."

"If you got a better idea, we're open ears," Ingrid told him. Vallejo remained silent.

Fillmore put a reassuring hand on his boss. "Relax, we know what we're doing," he assured him. As Vallejo walked away, Fillmore whispered to his partner, "You sure this'll work?" Ingrid just gave him a "look".

_~Elvis's POV (First Person)~_

The school was closed for the day. Time for action, I didn't need to check if the Safety Patrol HQ was occupied or how many guards were on duty, yet. I spoke into my earpiece. "Hack, you in?"

Alexis's voice came through the device. "'Course I'm in, but can we hurry this up? I really don't like this."

"I'm pulling the strings," I reminded her. I checked my watch. "Take over ready to initiate?"

"At your signal," she replied bitterly.

Inwardly I didn't like blackmailing people, but I had to get that formula. "T-minus three minutes," I said to myself and to her. Then I pushed a button to communicate with phase two. "Ox, you in?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," came the grunting reply. This kid was a criminal, but his name slipped my mind, all I remembered was that he would get the job done, if paid well.

"Stand by," I told him before switching channels yet again. "Slick and Oil, you two in?"

"We're in," came the reply. They were transportation and escape, their names were… Wheels and Tin Can I thought, but I could be wrong. They were ex-criminals, but it only took some blackmail to get them cooperate.

I switched Channels once more. "Jumper, you in?"

"Yeah, yeah," came the sarcastic reply. "I'm here and I'm ready, lighten up." Jumper was her code name of course; I couldn't call them by their real names in case there was a hacker. Jumper was an annoying, bubblegum chewing, punk girl. She was doing this to embarrass the cops for locking her up for some crime or another.

"T-minus 60 seconds," said Hack aka Alexis through the earpiece.

"I'm ready," I replied, stretching my limbs. The plan was simple enough. Security would deactivate, then I would slip in. Ox would be the dangerous distraction. I would get in while Ox was causing the distraction and get picked up in a golf cart by Slick, while Oil picked up Ox. Ox and Oil would drive in the opposite direction while I would go to where Jumper would cover the cop(s) in a disgusting dyeing slime. If everything worked, I would be home free.

Then again, I didn't have the time to make a backup plan. But I could improvise.

"T-minus 5 seconds, 4 seconds, 3, 2, 1, 0." I moved fast, slipping into the building the second security was deactivated. I knew the way from here, plus I had a map in my back pocket in case I got lost. Now that I was in, it was time for Ox. "Ox, move in," I whispered. An affirmative grunt was my reply.

I eventually had to slow down to be silent. Even though it was late afternoon outside, this part of the building received next to no sunlight. Suddenly, all the lights flashed back on. I seethed; someone had used a backup wiring system or something. "Alexis, lights are on in my sector, what's going on?" I demanded to know.

"Apparently a hacker as good as I am countered my hacking program," came Alexis's shaky reply. "Ox is in light too. But the cameras and alarms are still down."

"Make sure it stays that way," I threatened. This was not going well, I didn't expect a counter-hacker.

"Two police officers guarding our escape vehicles," said Oil.

"We can't get to them," added Slick.

I switched to group lines. "How in the world did they know about this?" I asked everyone. Then I realized I was a little too loud.

"Who know about what?" asked Jumper.

"Cops!" exclaimed Ox.

"Get them," I told him. "This still might work." Security was still down, so I still stood a chance.

_~Fillmore and Ingrid's POV~_

"Thanks E," said Ingrid. "Can you get the security back online too?"

"I get paid in the currency of criminal records," came the sing-song reply.

"E…" said Fillmore warningly.

"Hey, the lights were the free demo, pass on the documents and I'll give you your alarms back," E replied. "Oh, and make it snappy, the hacker is counter-hacking my hack."

Fillmore gave his partner a look. If someone found out about this, they were screwed.

"Fine," he sighed. Ingrid started scanning documents. "They're being sent now, can you fix the alarms any time this month?"

"Sure, I'll pencil it in next Friday," came the reply.

"E…"

"Just kidding! Security back online in T-minus 90 seconds. Would be sooner, but this person's good."

"Fillmore, Ingrid, you in?" asked a voice on Fillmore and Ingrid's radio.

"We're in Anza, what do you see?"

"More like what "are we doing?". Two officers by the shed claim to see rustling bushes all the time. O'Farrell by the golf carts says he hears voices. Tehama and I are currently chasing after someone who we have not identified beyond male and large with black hair and apparently Caucasian. Haven't seen his face though," Anza panted out the last sentence.

"Stay on him for show," said Fillmore as he perked up his ears, hearing soft footsteps outside. "I think we got our guy."

* * *

**Is Elvis caught?**

**Hopefully this gives some insight into Elvis's thoughts. Still, not all about him is known.**


End file.
